


Singing Anywhere

by Rachel_Lu



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Band Fic, Concerts, Enemies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Getting to Know Each Other, Pop stars, Rivalry, Singing, Starting Over, singers - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-23 01:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7460700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachel_Lu/pseuds/Rachel_Lu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rose Tyler goes on her very first tour just to find out that her schedule coincides with her famous rival, the Tardis Trio, starring one John Smith.  She and her singers will have plenty of trouble along the way, especially between John and Rose themselves</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> NEW AU!!!!!!!!!!!!! I've never done anything this modern before sooo I'm a little nervous about it but this first chapter was alot of fun to write! I hope you guys like it and I appreciate any feedback! Enjoy!

Rose Tyler's tour manager was a kind woman by the name of Sarah Jane Smith.  The two women, despite their age differences, were very close friends, and Rose thought of her as a mother figure since her own mother didn't travel with her on tour. 

She was exciting, a pop star: and a damn good one at that.  Her fans were absolutely in love with her and she had to admit that she was rather in love with them.  Of course, they were the people who had gotten her where she was, her and her two backup singer, Martha and Amy.  The three of them were a close knit group and shared their hotel rooms when they were on tour. 

"Rose Tyler's European Tour!" Sarah Jane said excitedly as the tour bus was finally finished being packed.  "What do you think?"

Rose laughed.  "I think I'm excited," she said, beaming.  Her mother had just bid her goodbye, crying as though her daughter was moving away from home forever.  Rose had shed a couple tears, but of course, she wouldn't tell her manager that. 

Martha bounced on one of the bunks in the bus.  "They're not bad," she shared.  "Out first trip out is an overnighter."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Amy flopped down on her bunk, leaving Rose one of the two that was on the top.  She rolled her eyes and Sarah Jane smiled sympathetically.  

"I think that it'll be fine, Rose," Sarah Jane said.  

"I know it'll be fine," she replied, "It'll be lots of fun! Right?"

Martha and Amy chimed in happily, nodding and rolling farther into their bunks.  Rose laughed, her mood undeniably in the sky.  

"There is some other news, though," Sarah Jane said, as though she was a little afraid to say whatever it was that was happening.

"What is it?" Rose asked, watching her tour manager carefully. 

"The Tardis Trio," Sarah Jane said, "They're gonna be following the same tour schedule as you," Sarah Jane said, watching Rose's face for her reaction. 

The reaction she got was Rose's face turning into a storm.  "I'm sorry.  Are you saying they're going to be following us?" 

"You have two different fan bases and will be performing at two different stadiums.  You will, however, bestayinginthesamehotels," Sarah Jane turned as if to leave and Amy shot up to grab at her shirt. 

"Whoa, Sarah Jane. Staying in the same hotel as those tools?  I dunno."

"It's not really up to you, it's decided.  Have a nap while we drive, take the edge off."  And with that, Sarah Jane strode out, and it appeared as though the whole thing really _was_ decided.

"Ugh.  The Tardis Trio," Rose wrinkled her nose.  "I don't think we've ever really crossed paths with them, have we?"

Martha shook her head.  "I don't think so.  We just gripe about them because they're snotty."

"But Rose knows John." Amy pointed out.

"I _met_ John. Once.  I don't know him.  He just seemed stuck up.  He knew he was smart and wanted everybody else to know it too.  It's stupid."

Martha kicked her feet against the thin mattress of her bunk. "Well, hopefully they won't be at the breakfast buffet, eh?"

Amy snorted.  "Yeah.  They are right gorgeous though, you have to give them that."

"No, I don't have to give them anything," Rose replied hotly.  "I think they're stuck up prats and that's that."

"You think John is attractive," Martha pointed a finger up at her. "You blush sometimes when he comes up."

"It's an anger blush," Rose brushed off easily. "S'not a 'oh my God, he's so cute' blush.  Got it?"

Amy giggled.  "Okay. Sure.  We'd probably better catch naps, it's not like we're stopping anytime soon."

Rose glanced out the window of the bus, seeing the sun set.  Why they decided to leave so late, she'd never understand, but they liked driving at night to hide her bus.  That never worked, so what was the point?  She tore her gaze away from the magnificent view and smiled at her back-up singers. 

"You're right.  I'm gonna go change, I'll be back." 

The Tardis Trio was a boy band, if that fact wasn't already obvious enough.  Well, that is, as obvious as Rose Tyler found it to be.  It consisted of three men: John Smith (lead vocals and gorgeous eye candy) Rory Williams (guitar- Shy, but somehow a lady magnet) and Jack Harkness (piano-Lady _and_ gentleman magnet).  Some poor sods had to be the rest of their band, but for the most part it was John, Adam, and Jack.  If the crowds were lucky, John would whip out his own guitar and play for the masses. 

Rose rolled her eyes at the thought.  It was such an overused tactic.  She'd pulled out her own guitar or piano skills on many occasions, but only when appropriate.  She had a sneaking suspicion that John only did it when the screams got a little too quiet for his liking. 

Sarah Jane, for her part, couldn't understand why the two hated each other so much. They weren't even the same genre of music: the Tardis Trio was very much Bubblegum Pop, Rose Tyler falling into a more empowered category.  She didn't ask for a man's attention in her music, she _demanded_ it.  She didn't timidly ask if she could be loved.  It was something that had young girls fawning over her for a different reason then they fell over the Tardis Trio. 

Of course, booking them on the same tour schedule had been accidental, but it hadn't made anyone's sales decrease at all.  If anything, both sets of performers had seen their ticket sales escalate, especially with the promise of a whole European tour.  Sure, there were bound to be broken hearts, two massive performers on the same day, but it would be alright.  A few sad teenage girls was worth the excitement and pleasing of the masses.  

Rose tied her hair up in a ponytail and set about crawling into her bunk. She was determined to not let the tour news get to her.   She was a star, for God's sake, and she was going on her _own_ tour.  That was exciting enough to put any thoughts of boys with perfect hair right out of her head. 

"Ladies, tomorrow," she whispered excitedly, remembering exactly what they were doing and just how bloody _great_ it was.

"Tomorrow!" both Martha and Amy agreed giddily, and the three of them giggled and chatted for about an hour and a half before one by one, slowly dropping off to sleep.

***

The next morning Rose woke up with a crick in her neck and excitement in her joints.  Martha was already making coffee in the little portable machine that was in the bus.  Rose peeked out from the little curtains covering her bunk and looked at her friend.  "Is that coffee?" She asked. 

"Yeah," Martha laughed.  "Good morning."

"Yeah, you too," Rose leaned forward out of her bunk.  "Are we still moving?"

They checked into their hotel while Rose's crew went about setting up the stage.  It wasn't exactly posh, but that didn't bother any of the girls.  Rose set her bag down and threw herself on one of the three beds.  

"Do you think the Tardis Trio is going to look for us?" Amy asked.  

Rose groaned.  "God, do you all have crushed on them or something?"

Martha laughed.  "No, but you have to admit, they're not bad looking."

"Well, we've got our own show to do, we can't be worried about them." Rose said, huffing a bit in exasperation.  

Amy grinned. "I'm not worried about their attractiveness, but I'm waiting for someone to call us out on having the same tour schedule."

Martha frowned, her brow drawing together in confusion.  "Hang on, though, that was an accident."

"Yeah," Rose agreed. "But that doesn't mean the press isn't going to say anything about the situation."

"Any publicity is good publicity," Amy replied easily, inspecting her fingernails.  "Don't you think?"

Rose had to agree, even if she didn't want to.  She lifted a shoulder.  "Well.  Do you guys want to get room service before the show?"

****

The show went brilliantly and Rose, Amy, and Martha left the stage feeling sweaty and happy.  Rose had really never felt more loved than she did when she was onstage, and she had a feeling that Martha and Amy felt the same way.  They were loved by her fans as well, known by name because Rose made sure to give them the attention that they deserved. 

They were laughing and flushed, and Amy popped out to send another wave out to the audience, making them scream, before she came back to Rose and Martha, giggling.  

"Oh, they're so enthusiastic," Amy said, winking.  

"They love you, Rose," Martha said, grabbing her friend's arm.  "That was amazing!" 

Rose nodded.  She had to agree.  There was something about being on that stage and feeling someone loving her from so far away that was incredibly humbling. She found herself energized by it.

"Alright, girls, you've got about thirty minutes before the people with backstage passes start coming back," Sarah Jane said, looking down at her clipboard.  "How are you all feeling?"

"Great!" Amy said, throwing up a thumbs-up.  

It didn't feel like thirty minutes before teenage girls and their mothers and teenage boys who were very much unsupervised came stampeding into the greenroom, looking as though they were desperately trying not to scream.  The girls were always so kind, hugging their fans and taking photos, happily chatting about anything and everything that the people wanted to.  A flirtier boy asked if he could kiss Rose on the cheek for a photo.  She winked at him and told him of course.

"Way better than the Tardis Trio," Rose heard someone mutter, and she lifted her eyebrows at Martha who smiled and nodded in reply.  Amy was busy signing an autograph and chatting animatedly with a fan.  

They changed into lounge clothes after the fans had left and Rose found herself beyond exhausted.  She knew that some people stayed out late after concerts, mostly the band, but Rose really couldn't find a reason to do that.  She wanted to be awake enough to give everything to her fans, and she knew that Martha and Amy felt the same way. 

She knew she looked as tired as she felt, but she was tired and had a smile on her face as they all entered the hotel with sunglasses on, not hiding necessarily, but also not having the energy to be mobbed either.  

Rose swore she had been paying attention to where she was going, but she bumped into a rather tall man and they grabbed each other to steady themselves.  Martha and Amy were too busy trying to stumble back to the elevator in their tiredness, so she let them go, and instead looked up into the eyes of John Smith and practically rolled her own.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I-" he paused and took a closer look at her before his face spread into a wide grin.  "Oh, as I live and breathe," he said dramatically.  "Rose Tyler!"

She stepped away from him, shaking her hands from him. "Yeah, well, sorry I bumped into you, I'm okay now."

"I heard your show was brilliant."

She watched him carefully and took her sunglasses off.  "That's not... You're messing with me."

"No, I did, there are some of your fans staying here, I heard them talking about you.  You must be really fantastic."  He sounded sincere and that very fact was enough to make Rose oddly uncomfortable. 

She arched an eyebrow at his words.  "What, you've never heard me to decide for yourself?" She asked. 

"What, and you can honestly say that you listen to my music?" John scoffed.  "It's not like our rivalry is a secret, Rose."

Rose crossed her arms and stared him down as best she could, considering that he was taller than her.  "I've listened to yours," she said, "You should always be aware of your competition, John."

"Just because the whole bloody world likes you doesn't mean that I have to," John replied, stepping into her person space.

Oh, now this was too much.  He was feeding off of her emotions, she could tell.  They didn't exactly hate each other, but a rivalry was a rivalry and he could've just let her go after they'd stumbled into each other, but no.  He'd told her he'd _heard_ she was brilliant, but that he hadn't even bothered to listen to her?  Now that was insulting. 

He blinked, even though he'd been the last person to speak, and opened and closed his mouth a couple of times.  "And you've listened to us?"

"Yep," she replied cheerfully, "And I hate it.  I suggest you listen to any of my music before we continue a more serious rivalry, because quite frankly, I've got a leg up and it's insulting."  She grinned and slipped away from him. "You have a lovely night!"

He stared after her, a glower written across his face.  Oh, this wasn't over.  They were very young, and young people fought.  Sarah Jane didn't even need to know.

"I'm sure I'll see you later," he called after her.

"I'm sure you will!" She replied, and slid into the elevator, making the door close behind her.  There!  And she'd gotten the last word. 

She didn't let the run in with John ruin her fun, but she did tell Amy and Martha about it.  They seemed shocked that the Tardis Trio, or at least John, had never listened to Rose's music.  Martha seemed insulted more so than upset.  

"Well, you know what that means," Amy said casually, from her position flipping channels on the hotel's telly.

"What?" Rose and Martha both asked at once.

Amy looked over and grinned widely.  "This is war.  Good clean fighting among pop stars." She lifted a shoulder and crossed her ankles. "I think it'll be great fun."

Rose had to agree.  They could _definitely_ make this fun.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This AU promises to be a bit shorter, but i have another one lined up, never fear!  
> Enjoy!!!

It was really an unspoken fact of the universe that Rose Tyler was an incredible singer.  It was also an unspoken fact that she was friendly and lovely to all the people she met. At the moment, though, she was still bristling with her run-in with John Smith.  The whole thing was ridiculous, really.  He was just some pretty boy. 

But they were having a rivalry and he hadn't even listened to her _music._ It was just rude, that was all.  That's what John Smith was, John Smith was _rude._

She woke up in the hotel and they stumbled back into the bus to travel on again.  They ran into the Tardis Trio in the lobby, checking out.  Everyone who was a member of a band or group going on tour was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. 

Rory Williams, one of the boys from the group, accidentally bumped into Amy. They were in separate lines, so Rose was a  little suspicious as to how it had happened, but it had, and he was apologizing profusely, as Amy had stumbled. 

"I'm really sorry," he said, touching her arm gently.

"It's okay, just watch where you're going next time," Amy replied, and then, to Rose's complete astonishment, she _smiled at him._   Now, what was that?  She was just about to call her friend out on her disloyalty when Rory spoke up again.

"I hear we're on the same schedule," he said, "That'll keep us all busy, won't it?"

"Oh, yeah," Amy nodded.  "We like dot be on our bus bright and early so we can catch some rest before going on to perform."

Rory arched an eyebrow, barely visible behind his glasses.  "That makes sense.  We usually go out and-"

"Drink?" Martha piped up, and Rory blushed deeply as she continued, "Yeah, we know."

"I was going to..." Rory muttered, but turned away from Amy.  "I'm sorry for bumping into you, I'm just... I'm rather clumsy."

Amy swayed towards him and Rose narrowed her eyes, not in suspicion, but more in confusion.  Hadn't Amy been all for this 'friendly rivalry' just last night? She seemed to be a bit-

And there it was!  John patted Rory reassuringly on the shoulder, as though he'd just been shot down on a date.  Her eyes widened.  Oh.  Rory had been about to ask Amy to go out with them before their show that night.  

For a brief moment, Rose felt guilty on Amy's behalf, especially when she saw the crestfallen look on her face.  But she knew that this probably wasn't the best thing for Amy.  The last thing she needed was a tour boyfriend.  It was a whirlwind romance at best, and that wasn't very good to begin with.  

Amy seemed to shake it off, no longer sagging slightly, instead keeping her eyes forward towards the check out desk.  This was absurd, of course, Rose thought, and congratulated Amy mentally on her realizing it. 

The Tardis Trio didn't say another word to the girls before they checked out and disappeared from the hotel.  Rose didn't even bother to hide the rolling of her eyes.  They were just terribly annoying.  She wondered if they had classes for it, because certainly no one was like that all by themselves.  

They checked out and went out to their bus, shedding their hats and glasses as they went.  When they got to the bus, Sarah Jane was standing there, clipboard in hand, ready to read the agenda to them.  

"I see that you met the Tardis Trio along your merry way," she said sarcastically.

Martha looked shocked. "How could you tell?"

"You all look equal parts miserable and scowl-y.  Chins up!  you need to be careful and happy, this is your tour after all."

Rose sighed.  "She's right," she admitted.  "We shouldn't be so focused on the other bands that are in competition with us, we'd never fall asleep."

"Rose is right!" Sarah chirped up.  "Now, you'll have to be nice and early for sound check today, because the sound in our next location is very dodgy."

Sarah Jane droned on and on about the business side of things, which Rose had to admit wasn't her favorite part of the job.  She liked the singing, the performing, the inspiring.  That was what it was all about, after all, and for it to be anything else, to Rose, was almost ludicrous.

She zoned out, as she usually did.  Martha would fill her in later, and she could run through dance moves for that night in her head this way.  She wanted everything to be perfect, as she always did. A screen magnified her and made her larger than life to her fans and that was usually a good thing, unless she messed up. 

Finally, Sarah Jane ceased her rambling and bit the girls good luck before the bus took off.  They ate breakfast on the bus, talking quietly as they were still trying to wake up. 

"So, it looked like Rory Williams was trying to pull you," Martha said, lifting her thermos of tea to her lips.

Amy scowled at her. "I don't know about that," she said.  "He was trying to  apologize for pushing me."

"I think it was on purpose," Martha replied.  "Casually bumping into you all those times, then bringing up that he and the guys go out."

"Oh, come off it. It wouldn't have been that big a deal, and you both know it."

"No, it probably wouldn't have been," Rose admitted.  "You would've been fine, we can all handle ourselves."

Amy nodded, seemingly grateful for the support, even if she didn't really understand where it was coming from, since Rose was just as bitter about the Tardis Trio as anybody else. 

The bus ride passes smoothly, the girls rehearsed their harmonies, and things seemed to go quite smoothly.  Rose didn't think she'd ever really been happier in her entire life.

****

While Rose and her girls were at an early soundcheck, their hair pulled up in messy buns and wearing sweats, the Tardis Trio was setting up shop in their hotel room.  Rory was sprawled out on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Are you alright, mate?" Jack asked from his spot in the bathroom, fixing his hair.

"How'd you know I was upset?" Rory asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"I know everything," Jack said smugly, missing the way that John rolled his eyes in response.  "Now, what's wrong?"

"Amy," he replied.

John turned to his friend, looking up from the news updates on his phone.  "What do you mean, 'Amy'?  That was a shot in the dark, asking her out for a drink."

"Yeah, but I wanted it."

"Sleeping with the enemy!" Jack accused, pointing around the wall and accidentally landing his finger on John before realizing and turning it to point at Rory instead. 

Rory sighed heavily.  "I think I might actually like her."

"How would you know?" John asked, snorting a little.  "All she does is doo-wop behind Rose Tyler, who, by the way, is an ego-maniac."

Rory narrowed his eyes. "You know, you don't know anything about them."

"We know that they're hot _and_ irritating," Jack piped up cheerfully, as though that statement was in any way helpful.  "John ran into the hottest last night, remember?"

"Rose Tyler is not _hot,"_ John spat out, wrinkling his nose.  "If anything, she's _attractive,_ but that's all.  A mediocre word for a mediocre girl.  And she had the audacity to be offended that I'd never listened to her music."

"Well, it is rather odd, and kinda rude," Rory said. 

"Your judgement is clouded," Jack said as he left the bathroom. "You listen to her stuff with your iPod just to hear Amy's voice so you can obsess all by your lonely little self."

Rory blew out his cheeks, spitting a little with the movement. "I'm not... I'm not lonely and I'm not _obsessive,_ that's ridiculous.  I'm just... I _like her._ Why are you so rude about it? You're both acting like teenagers."

"Because, Rose Tyler and her group are the enemy," John proclaimed, "They're egotistical women who think they can empower everyone when really they're just as generic as any other pop band in the world."

"How would you know?" Rory mumbled, "You won't listen to their music."

"It's _her_ music, as in Rose Tyler.  She writes the stuff," Jack reminded him.  "Amy isn't the front runner."

Rory groaned.  "Okay, but my point still stands. You don't know anything about them."

John began pacing the little hotel room in frustration.  "I know that Rose Tyler wears those silly costumes that look like leotards with a bustle and skirt in the back, and she wears fishnets and heels with them." He crossed his arms.  "I know that she thinks she looks classy, but she-"

"She kind of does," Rory said.

John sputtered, his hands flailing a bit. "What do you _mean,_ 'she does'?  Classy??"

"She does," Rory said, "She does it all in a way that makes you think 'oh, yeah, she's pretty, but she's not easy, it would take a lot of effort to get her."

"Oh, my God, Rory," John ran his hands over his face.  "We've got the inside man that we never wanted."

Jack laughed, a rich, deep sound that made everyone around him instantly feel a little happy, even if it was just for a moment.  "Well, he's got one thing right.  Rose Tyler has got one great body."

"You don't know anything about... You're all... Oh, you two are unbelievable!" John said.  "First you want to ask one of them out, then you want to talk about how hot the group is.  That is just..."

"We're men, John," Jack said, "If you took a look at Rose, too, you'd probably crash head over heels in love with her just like the rest of Europe.  Don't play dumb." 

"I'm not looking to ogle Rose Tyler," John said, though he had to wonder in the back of his head what Rose looked like in motion, in the outfits that he had described just moments before.  He'd seen them in still in magazines as she threw a sultry look over her shoulder, her knees bent slightly and one hand ruffling her hair.  She was attractive, but he knew that.  He just _refused_ to be attracted _to_ her.

"Ah, but you got to touch her last night," Jack said.

John snorted.  "She ran into me because she's got that pop star complex and hadn't been taking care.  We ran into each other and I grabbed her shoulders before either of us got sent into the pavement. And of course I didn't think it was her."

"So if you had known it was Rose you would've let her stumble and fall?" Rory asked quietly from his perch. 

Jack pointed at John.  "Sleeping with the enemy!" 

John scowled.  "Oh, you hypocrite, you'll sleep with anyone else."

"Anyone but the enemy."

John sighed.  "Look, this is ridiculous.  I ran into Rose.  I didn't mean to touch her, I don't listen to her music, and she dresses like a-"

"Hey," Jack said sharply, "Not nice. If I was a lady like that and had a body like that I'd sure as hell wear those leotard, bustle combos.  And I'd want the men to drool over me too, and they definitely drool over Rose Tyler." he turned to Rory.  "Can you really blame them?"

Rory shook his head.  "No, not really.  She's pretty."

Jack sighed happily.  "Oh, that was just so innocent."

John snorted and shook his head.  "Alright, let's get ready for this show.  We've got plenty to do."

****

Rose was putting on one of her leotard-bustle outfits just as John had been talking about it.  Her hair was curled, the outfit had clear straps, and she felt powerful and sexy, which was what her message was all about, regardless of what she was saying in her music.  

She ruffled her hair, making it have a bit of a more natural look, and grinned at herself in the mirror.  This was the moment she had been waiting for since she was a little girl.  Her crew put her mic pack on and she put on her head mic, twisting to make sure it wasn't messing up her hair in any of the wrong ways.

Rose, Amy and Martha all hugged underneath the stage before Rose stood in her little box, ready to push up to the stage.  The crowd was already cheering loudly, the countdown on the screen rumbling through Rose's chest.  She smiled to herself and her platform started to rise as the music to her first song began pulsing through her.

"The first time that it crossed my mind, I kept on pushing it aside, it's such a strong emotion," She struck her first pose as she sang that first verse and the crowd screamed. 

Oh, yes.  This was the world she was meant to live in.

***

That night, John looked up the video footage that had been put online.  Just to see what Rose Tyler looked like moving in one of those ensembles.  

He was shocked to find that she was very, very, _very_ attractive.

And he found that against his will, he was attracted to her.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose, Amy, and Martha returned to their hotel happy and sweaty but still wearing their hats and sunglasses.  Even though the glasses kept slipping down the bridges of their noses due to said sweat, Rose found that it was really worth it. She'd seen so many happy people that night, and that was all she wanted anyway, no matter what.  She just wanted to make people smile.

"Well, I'm going up," Rose said, "If you guys wanna stop at the bar that's fine."

"No, I'm coming up too." Martha shook her head. "I'm dead tired.  "What about you, Amy?" 

Amy looked over at them, distracted. "No, I'm going to stay out for a little bit.  They've got a great gift shop."

"They actually have," Martha said, drawing her brows together.  "Maybe I'll stop down tomorrow before we leave, what do you think?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," Rose said around a yawn, her hand over her mouth.  "Not right now, though, I'm really, really tired."

Martha laughed.  "Alright, then, go on up." She shoved her friend playfully and the two of them headed for the elevator, chatting quietly. 

Amy headed towards the gift shop, just to keep up the facade for just a moment, before looking over her shoulder.  Martha and Rose had already disappeared into the elevator and the doors had shut behind them.  She blew out a breath of relief and turned to her left at the last moment and darted for the hotel bar. 

Rory was there, as he had said he would be, sitting alone at a stool in a hat that was pulled slightly over his eyes.  She sat down next to him, butterflies fluttering pleasantly in her stomach.  "Hello," she said cheerfully, trying to catch his eye.

He turned abruptly and grinned at her, a wonky grin that she was quite fond of.  "Amy, hello," he replied.  "I'll be honest, I didn't think you'd show, not with... With your friends, the other day."

"It's alright, don't worry about them," she watched him carefully.  "Um, where do your friends think you are?"

"I don't think they even noticed I left the room," he said, "But, uh, I don't want to talk about them.  Not tonight."

"Me either.  With my friends, that is.  You know," she let out a breathy laugh that he echoed. 

"We're being awkward," he observed, looking at her sheepishly, "That's usually not your style."

Amy rolled her eyes. "You get one shot at a first date, Rory," she said teasingly.

He sat up a little straighter.  "Oh.  Is that.. Have we decided that that's what this is?"

She blushed furiously.  Of _course_ they hadn't talked about it.  "Uh, I wouldn't... I wouldn't mind, if that's what it was.  I do like  you, quite a lot."

He smiled.  "I like you quite a lot too."

"And I'm sorry Rose and Martha were prats this morning."

"I'm sorry my friends are prats all the time."

They both laughed, effectively breaking the tension, and settled in for a nice, long night of light drinking and chatting with good company.

****

"Where is she?" Rose asked around midnight.  "How long can you spend at a gift shop?"

Martha and Rose had long since dressed for bed and prepared to sleep, but it seemed that Amy hadn't been too keen on the whole 'getting rest' idea.

"She's gonna have to sleep on the bus at this rate," Martha said around her piece of floss.

Rose wrinkled her nose. "I'm kinda worried. I think I'll go look for her."

"Okay, I'll hold down the fort here."

Rose laughed and pulled on a satin dressing gown over her flannel pajama pants and camisole. "I haven't got time to change," she mumbled to herself, shoving her feet into her flip flops and heading for the door.  "Don't take any wooden nickels, Martha."

"Yeah, no one actually knows what that means."

Rose laughed and left, sliding on a pair of sunglasses at the last moment.  Since she didn't have any makeup on and her hair was a complete mess, it didn't really matter if she wore them or not, no one would recognize her.  

She got into the lift and set a course for the library, but one floor down the lift stopped to pick up a passenger.  John Smith stepped on the elevator. 

"Good God, I can't get away from you," She said, taking her sunglasses off.  She'd draw more attention wearing them then not anyway. 

He was in pajamas as well, pinstriped, and had a black beanie hat on.  "Uh," he said eloquently, and looked at her for a moment. "The lobby, please."

"That's where I'm going."

He shuffled into the corner of the lift, leaning there casually, one leg over the other.  He was the epitome of effortless swagger, and it drove Rose absolutely spare, because she _knew_ that somewhere along the way he had to have practiced that, there was no way he hadn't.  He looked at her and she looked back at him and for a moment neither of them said anything. 

"How was your show?" She asked finally, tilting her chin up in defiance.  She hoped he would realize that she didn't actually care, she was just being polite. He smiled, a bloody cocky thing, one side of his mouth quirked up.

"Brilliant," he replied.  "Yours?"

"Brilliant."

"I see you've got more clothes on now."

Rose felt her blood boil momentarily and she whipped her dressing gown off so it hung by the crooks of her elbows.  "Oh?  Yeah?"

He swallowed heavily and looked up at the ceiling of the lift.  Did they _have_ to be so close to the top of such a _huge_ hotel?

"Um, yes, you have, actually," he said, shifting his weight.  "You put quite a lot on display."

Rose let herself have her own cocky grin.  He was a man, just as any other man was a man, and she took a step towards him, looking him in the face.  "People usually like it.  And how, exactly, do you know what I wear during my shows?"

His gaze snapped down to hers, and he looked angry, and maybe a little bit intimidated.  "I looked you up, I listened to your music, which is bloody awful by the way."

"Well, that makes two of us then."

He blinked. He'd expected her to be offended, but she was looking at him calmly, as though she had expected just that answer.  She removed herself from his personal space and flicked her thumbs into the satin of her dressing gown, bringing it back up to her shoulders before cinching it in a knot at her waist.  

"Well, what are you up to down here this late?" She asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Well, you didn't, yeah? I asked you, and you haven't given me an answer."

He sighed in frustration. "You're impossible. How does anyone like you?"

She rolled her eyes. "And you still haven't answered me. Honestly, what are you like?"

He huffed and crossed his arms. 

"Oh, and now he acts like a child."

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" 

"You might as well not be here, you can't even answer one question!"

John let out a frustrated breath.  "Okay, fine, I lost Rory.  Why are you here?"

She gave him an odd look. "I lost Amy."

Their eyes widened as they looked at each other.  " _Shit."_

The lift doors opened and they both darted from it, pushing each other as they went and complained loudly at each other.  It was lucky no one else was in the lobby aside from a stray desk worker, because otherwise some young people would've seen their idols playing push and shove in a hotel lobby in their jim jams, which would've been some form of embarrassing for most parties involved. 

"You lost your friend!" 

"You lost yours!"

"Well, maybe they're lost together, why didn't you keep an eye on her?"

"Ha!  You know what they say about blokes, don't you?"

"Why you bloody, cheeky-"

She pushed him again and stalked away from him.  Noting that the gift shop was closed (and had probably been like that for quite some time) she turned down the hallway that led to the arcade and bar.  

Since the arcade was first, she walked in there and John followed her like a lost puppy, not sure he wanted to go anywhere alone in his jim jams.  He at least looked a little sane when he was with her, since he wasn't the only one dressed like that. 

Rose stood in a dark corner and planted her hands on her hips, staring around the room. "I don't see them," she said testily, an edge creeping into her voice. 

"Well, neither do I," he shot back.

It occurred to Rose that she probably shouldn't be shouting at him, because it was just getting him fired up and they wound each other up in general so this was just becoming ridiculous, but she couldn't stop. Amy was missing and Rory was missing so they were probably missing together and God, wasn't that just the most annoying thing of all?

She started muttering to herself as she pushed John out of her way and started heading for the bar. 

"Now, hang on!" John shouted after her down the hallway.

She whirled around, having had just about enough of him.  "Now, what's all that for?" She asked. "What's there to hang onto?"

"You can't go into a bar in your pajamas," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

She made a show of looking him over, head to toe to head again, and raised her eyebrows.  He was blushing a bit wildly and she continued to watch him carefully.  

"Uh, yeah, I realize as I said that that I am wearing pajamas well, but I'm not the one about to go stomping into a hotel bar with a 'hell hath no fury' look on my face and flip flops."  He cocked his own brow at her. "Not to mention that you're a celebrity that pretty much all of Europe knows about."

As much as she hated it, she had to admit that he was right.  "Well, what do you suggest we do?"

"Peek."

"Peek?"

"Peek."

"You want us to just stick our heads around a corner of a bar in our jim jams and _somehow_ that's less creepy to you?" She asked him, a bit incredulously. 

"Well, erm, yes," he admitted, lifting one of his hands to rub nervously at the back of his neck.  "That was the plan."

"Or, we could just walk in there like patrons. No 'hell hath no fury' as you call it, but we can't _peek."_

He scowled at her and tried to ignore the fact that she was beautiful, her face flushed and eyes flashing.  So he scowled instead. "Or we could just peek in there to see if they're there and if they're safe, we'll go back to our rooms and hopefully I won't have to ever talk to you again."

" _Fine._ If it'll get you out of my hair, out of my whole life, even, I'm down for it.  Let's just go so we can _go."_

He led the way this time, his chin up and his posture so cocky that Rose found she just wanted to kick him down a flight of stairs. Instead she followed him and they did peek around the entrance of the bar.  Sure enough, there sat Amy and Rory, chatting happily.  Amy was laughing at a joke he had made, and he seemed pleased to have made her laugh.  John slunk back from the doorframe and Rose followed, both of them leaning against the door. 

"They do look really happy," she muttered. 

"They kept it from us," John said, sounding a little hurt.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, gee, I wonder why they would do that?"

"Alright, you don't have to be like that."

They walked back to the elevator quietly, and got in the lift quietly, and leaned back against the wall. Rose crossed her arms and continued to glower at something unseen while John shifted back and forth, praying that the elevator would act like the glass one from Willy Wonka and shoot them through the roof and into the sky.

John's floor came up first, as he was just below Rose's, and he moved to step off the lift.  She cut him off with one terse phrase. 

"See you at the wedding," she said sarcastically, and he didn't know why he felt his heart jump at that, but he did.

The doors shut behind him and he stood there blinking, wondering when their rivalry had gone so out of control. 

And how it had happened so bloody fast.


	4. Chapter 4

The next few days of the tour went remarkably well.  Rose found herself falling into a sort of bliss that she couldn't get out of.  She adored touring and being with her friends at all times.  Although she missed her mother, she was able to push it aside to don her costumes and dance and sing and pour herself into her music.

John on the other hand, found himself growing more and more distracted.  He'd seen more kinds of Rose Tyler than he had ever thought about before.  He saw her free of makeup, he saw her dolled up for the stage, and he saw her hiding from the press, looking relaxed and comfortable. 

He couldn't tell Rory or Jack about it, because both of them would certainly be offended, and Rory would probably confess what he had been up to with Amy. 

Of course, neither Rose nor John had talked to their friends about their little retreat.  Both were blissfully in the dark, thinking that no one knew that they met at every restaurant and bar in every hotel every night.  They were very much dates, and John and Rose knew it. 

"I'm going to to head down to the-"

"Gift shop?" Rose asked, flipping a page of her magazine as she sat in bed, one ankle crossed over the other.

"Yeah," Amy said, furrowing her brows.  "How'd you know?"

Martha looked up from her journal.  "Seems to be a habit of yours," she said, "Haven't you noticed at all?"

"Ah," Amy shrugged her shoulders, feigning nonchalance.  "I think it'll be fine, don't you?"

"Well, no there's nothing wrong with it," Martha was quick to say. "It's fine, go on, sorry we troubled you."

Rose didn't say anything.  Instead, she looked at Martha and gave her a shrug.  "She must love a shop," she said innocently.

As much as Rose wanted to tell Martha about what their friend was doing, she knew Amy would never forgive her.  She was falling for Rory, any blind idiot could see that, and Rose found that she really didn't want to ruin that. 

It was just a bit of fun, after all. She was just having drinks and little dinners.  That was no cause for alarm, even if it had been happening for several days.  No.  Not a problem.  Just... Just two people who showed an interest in each other... Actively being interested.  There was nothing wrong with that, of course.

"Yeah, I guess," Martha shook her head. "I'm kind of glad she doesn't ask us to go with her, you know.  I'd really hate to get out of bed once I laid down."

Rose laughed. "Yeah, that's fair," she said, flipping another page of her gossip rag.  She sighed.  "Look, I'm in this one."

Martha looked over.  "Oh, are you?" She said.  "So what does it say?"

Rose chewed the inside of her cheek.  "It's just saying some gossip about meeting up with guys in 'exotic European cities' and oh my God."

They'd found a picture of her and John, stalking around the first hotel Rory and Amy had met in.  Rose had her hands on her hips in the picture, glaring at John, who looked just as angry, if a bit more demure.  And he was looking a little lower.

Martha let out a bark of laughter and read allowed, "'Rose Tyler and John Smith have an outing that they didn't bet would be photographed!"  Next to the picture was a bubble that read 'hot!'

"Alright, then," Rose said, wanting to crumple up the picture, "We look like we want to rip each other's throats out, not.. not..."

"Oh, I know, that's why it's so funny.  There's no way someone believes that," Martha said reassuringly.  She snorted.  "But God, if it isn't funny!"

Rose wanted to be angry, but she had to agree that it was absurd.  She shook her head and laughed.  "Yeah, well.  This is...  Oh, I wonder if he's seen this."

"It's from when you went to look for Amy," Martha said.  "Why was John there?"

Rose felt her heart stutter.  She didn't want to lie to her friend, and so she didn't.  "Oh, well, he lost one of his band mates."

Martha seemed to have moved on from that part of the conversation at that point.  "Can I frame this picture?"

" _Mar_ tha." 

She giggled and ripped the page out.  "It's just funny, and I want it." 

Rose had to laugh at that point as well.  "Alright, alright." 

"You going to bed then?" Martha asked, tucking her prize into her bag.

Rose looked around. Everything she'd wanted or needed to do was done.  She looked over at the door, which her bed was closer to, and walked over to secure both locks.  "Yep!" She said, and crossed the room to jump onto the downy white duvet.  It fluffed up around her and she struggled to snuggle under it, but just managed it. 

"Turn the light off," Martha reminded her.

"Should we leave one on for Amy?" Rose asked, peering over at the several unlit lamps in the room.  To say that the hotel had been excited that teen idols were staying in their hotel would be an understatement. 

"Nah, she can use the flashlight on her phone if she wants to get in," Martha said a little dismissively.  "I'm not letting it keep me up."

"Okay," Rose reached over and turned off the light before burrowing under the covers, up to her nose.  She was asleep within moments, the warmth and comfort shutting her right off, preparing her for the next day. 

****

She was woken up by a light but insistent knock on the door.  Rose looked up blearily, her mind confused and her heart thumping.  She looked over at Martha, who was still sleeping peacefully.  Wanting to keep it that way, Rose got up with haste and crossed to the door, looking through the peephole to see none other but John Smith. 

Fighting back a groan of frustration, she unlocked the door, flung it open, and shut it behind her as she exited the room, accidentally getting into John's personal space. 

"What?" She demanded.  "What do you want?  What time is it?"

John blinked at her and stepped back when he realized that their noses were nearly touching.  "Uh.  Amy and Rory are gone."

Rose felt her eyes widen.  "What?!"

"I've been spying on them.  No, that doesn't sound very nice, but I guess.. I haven't been... Yes, that's what I've been doing.  And they've disappeared tonight, I couldn't see them in the restaurant."

"You lost our friends?" Rose said, her voice near a squeak.

"Oi!" He shot back, "I was watching them in the first place, you weren't even doing that!"

She crossed her arms over her chest and her mind was drawn to the fact that his gaze had dropped slightly before shooting right back up to her eyes.  She narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey, listen.  It wasn't my business, and it wasn't yours either, if I'll remind you," She said.  "Maybe we should all stay in our own business.  For instance, you're in mine right now at... At... What time is it?"

"It's two in the morning," he replied.

She raised her eyebrows.  "What?  You woke me up at two in the morning to tell me that you've lost our friends?"

He laughed, a little uneasily.  "We have to stop meeting this way."

She scowled at him in reply. 

John sighed, his posture quickly turning annoyed. "Alright.  Just come with me to look for them?"

"Right.  In pajamas, like last time, so people can take pictures of us and put them in the gossip rags?" She asked, but it sounded like more of a demand. 

He paled considerably at that, his freckles sticking out.  "Uh... They took pictures of us?"

"Yes, and they basically said we had a romantic secret rendezvous,"  She said, glaring at him, her eyes snapping.

"Well, that's a joke."

"I'll say."

"As if I'd ever be caught with you."

"Now, _listen here-"_

John lifted a hand.  "Just come with me or don't.  I don't want to fight with you anymore."

She furrowed her brows. "That's... You don't want to?"

He shook his head.  "No.  But I mean, it's two in the morning.  What we need to do is find our friends and go to sleep.  Right?"

As reluctant as she was to admit it, he was right.  She nodded slowly, ever taking her eyes from his. "Fine," she spat. 

"Okay," he said, "Let's go, then."

He was wearing that beanie again, to cover up his hair, and Rose's hair was up in a bun, messy and tousled from sleep, so both of them looked a bit different, but that hadn't stopped the paparazzi last time, so Rose wasn't expecting much.  She sulked as she trudged along behind him, her arms still crossed.  He kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure she was still there, which of course, she was. 

John jammed his finger into the button to open the lift and they both got on, still stewing at each other.  They were at the top of the hotel again, as that was where the penthouses were, and Rose looked up with a sigh.  They had sixteen floors to go before they got down to the lobby.  

About six floors down, the lift stuttered to a stop.  Rose felt her eyes widen as the lights flickered and lowered, still staying on, but gentler.  

John huffed and looked around for a button to press to get them out.  As he looked around, her found himself preoccupied with the search.  After about two minutes, he looked over to see her crouching in the corner of the lift, breathing heavily.  

He wasn't think properly, of course he wasn't, otherwise he would never do it, but he got down to his knees before her, still keeping his distance but staying close to her still.  "Rose, are you okay?"

She shook her head, eyes alight with fear as her breathing intensified.  Her heart was hammering in her chest.  She finally met his gaze and whispered, "This is my worst nightmare."

He furrowed his brows.  "You pop up from under the floor in your shows.  That's different?"

She nodded furiously, "I can get out of that."  She curled her toes into the carpet of the lift.  "I can't get out of this, I'm stuck!" 

John found that he wanted to help her.  He pursed his lips and watched her.  "I won't let anything happen to you."

"Oh, come on," she scoffed, "You'd probably be glad if something happened to me."

John scowled at her, which was probably not the best expression to make at her, but she did have the tendency to infuriate him. "I'm trying to make you feel better," he snapped.  "And I don't want you to be scared.  I don't hate you."

"Yes you do."

"Okay, I do a little bit."

"Yeah."

"Well, you hate me too!" 

"Yep."

He sat back on his heels, watching her. "There's a call button," he said slowly, "But I wanted to check up on you before I-"

"Just press it!" She shouted, and buried her nose into her knees, her eyes squeezing shut.  "Please, please, I'm freaking out, John."

His heart ached for her in a way that was surprising to him, and he got up to press the call button.  A voice came through the elevator a moment later. 

"What's going on?" A woman's voice filtered in.

"Ah, yes, the lift's stopped," John said, "I've a friend in here with claustrophobia and if you could get someone up here, that would be really great."  

"Of course, sir, we'll get someone up there as soon as we can."

"Thank you," John said.

The woman signed off and Rose looked up at him.  They stared at each other in a deadlock for a few moments.  Finally, John sighed and sat down cross legged in front of her.  "It'll be alright," he said, watching her. 

She didn't say anything, and John wondered if it would be easier for her to deal with the whole situation if he spoke to her. 

"You know," he said softly, "I think this is the realest you've ever been."

Her bottom lip trembled slightly and she bit it hard, her eyes filling with unshed tears.  She blinked them back and released her lip, little white imprints from her teeth marring her lip for moments before they disappeared.  John watched the movement hungrily. 

"I'm scared," she whispered, and that brought him back to reality.

"We'll be alright, Rose," he said.

"Oh, you've been stuck in a lift before, have you?" She snapped.  

"Yes, actually," he replied, his own voice rising.  "Maybe try to take a nap or something while we wait here?"

"I can't sleep, I'm terrified!" She shouted. 

"Oh, well, then, might as well not try," John said sarcastically, "Not like you've a show tomorrow or anything."

Rose set her jaw and scared at him.  "Fine, whatever."  She tilted her head against the wall and shut her eyes, but she was trembling. 

John sat sort of next to her, as close as he could since she was in the corner.  He leaned his head back and set up his post to wait.  If this took a long time, he had the feeling that they were both in for a miserable night.


	5. Chapter 5

Rose shook as she sat in the elevator.  Her fear was climbing up from her chest and she found that her breathing was heavy and her heart racing.  She could practically feel John next to her, his presence overwhelming as he was watching her. 

"I can feel you staring," she said through clenched teeth.

"Well, sorry," he replied in a curt tone, "I was just trying to keep an eye on you," he huffed to himself.  

"You don't need to worry about me," she replied.  

He mumbled something to himself before saying out loud, "So you're saying that I'm not allowed to worry about you when you're freaking out in the corner of a lift?"

"The corner of a _stopped_ lift, I wouldn't be freaking out otherwise," she snapped, opening her eyes to glare at him. They stared at each other in a bit of a showdown before he groaned in frustration and got to his feet and started to pace the elevator.  

She watched him pace, his jim jam trousers, which were a bit too big, flapping about his legs.  "And now we can't find Amy and Rory," he said in frustration, "And all you care about is your own safety."

He barely heard her choked sob.  When he looked over, Rose had her face pressed into her knees and she was crying.  He stopped pacing, standing stock still, staring down at her.  Never had he seen her so vulnerable.  She was always so cold and snappy and rude.  Well, she was those things to him at least.  But now, she was scrunched up and quivering, hiding herself from him.  He scratched the back of his neck and tried to figure out what to do with her. 

She wouldn't look at him now, didn't even have a sassy comeback.  It was clear that she was afraid, and he felt guilty for snapping at her.  Her fear was relevant, of course it was, and he'd told her she didn't care about her friend.  He sat down heavily again next to her, wincing when the lift rattled a little bit and she whimpered. 

"I'm... I'm sorry," he said. 

She didn't say anything for a moment, then quietly whispered, "It's okay."

He was struck with the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms, to cradle her to himself.  She was shaking and he just wanted to comfort her, which was a feeling he was sure he'd never felt before.  He stared at his hands just to make sure they didn't do anything that they weren't supposed to, like stroke her cheek or something.  Cause, his hands kind of wanted to stroke her cheeks or hold her waist or do something like hug her.  Press her up against himself... Kiss her... If she would let him.  He blew out a sigh, trying to take some of the tension with it. 

She _had_ accepted his apology, which was odd all by itself.  Then again, she was currently in a very bad place and was being very kind to him because of it.  He probably shouldn't have insulted her.  

"C-can I hold your hand?" He asked, a little uncertain, just wanting to make her feel better, even if there was animosity between them that might never fade.

"No," she mumbled into her knees.  "I don't want your pity, John."

John clenched his jaw. "Fine.  See if I try to be nice to you again."

"I never asked you to be nice to m!" She exploded, lifting her head to glare at him.  "I _hate_ you and I hate this!  You sing about love but no one will ever love you if you act the way you do.  You only treat your inner circles well."

"Oh, you're one to talk."

"I meet my fans on a regular basis," she snapped. 

"I would if I weren't so busy."

"We have the same tour schedule, you idiot!" 

"You're just yelling because you're scared!"

"I'm yelling because I hate you!"

"Oh, for all the _rude, insensitive_ women, you're the worst!"

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

She reached over herself and slapped him across the face.  He lifted his hand and cradled the injured cheek.  She stared at her hand, as though she couldn't believe she'd done that.  They stared at each other, breathing heavily, almost sharing each other's breath. 

He stood up and walked away from her, as far away as he could get.  Rose slumped against the wall, staring at the skin of her palm, which was quickly turning angry and red.  She wanted to apologize, but the words felt like bile in her throat and she just ended up stuttering madly.

"I don't know how long we're going to be in here," John said lowly, his voice resigned.  "But you might want to sleep, you'll have to be up tomorrow either way."

"Uh... Um, John, I didn't mean-"

"Goodnight, Rose."

She suddenly felt like crying again, but not out of fear.  She'd taken their rivalry too far, turned it physical.  That was something that probably shouldn't have happened, even though she still thought he deserved it.  

She curled her fingers into her palm.  "I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"Goodnight."

She wiped her face with her hands before moving towards the door and lay down on her side.  She curled up, her fear still crawling through her.  She closed her eyes and heaved a shuddering sigh.  She could hear John turn around and sit down next to her.  He laid down on his back behind her, clearly trying to get as far away from her as possible.  

Rose sniffed and curled in tighter on herself.  This was going to be a horrible, terrifying night, she could feel it. 

"I guess we'll both need sleep," he whispered softly, his voice sounding tired as well. 

The crying and fighting had drained her and she fell asleep, the weight of exhaustion tugging her down into blackness even as she tried painfully hard to stay awake.  

*****

When Rose woke up, the lights in the lift were on but they weren't moving, and the door wasn't open.  However, she felt something behind her, something breathing against her neck.  She froze.  While she and John had been asleep, he had spooned up behind her and thrown an arm over her waist, tugging her against him. 

She furrowed her brows and swallowed hard. She needed to get him off, but she didn't want him to know that he had done this.  He'd probably be as mortified as her.  But she hadn't been touched like this in years and she was tempted to revel in the touch that was almost loving, were he not asleep, it would be.  

He sighed heavily and cuddled up closer to her, his nose buried in her hair.  She felt her eyes widen at the motion.  He didn't know what he was doing, of course, he was sleeping, and this wasn't right, and _oh,_ he was so warm, and she felt oddly comforted.

Several minutes later of trying to fight with herself, she felt him start to wake up.  She shut her eyes and evened out her breathing to make sure that he thought she was still sleeping.  His breath hitched when he realized his position, she could _feel it._ He pulled back a little, his hand brushing her waist, and watched her for a moment. He lifted his hand from her waist and stroked her hair back before getting to his feet.  She heard him pace several lengths of the lift before calling out, "Rose, wake up."

She shifted as though she'd just woken up and sat up, looking blearily up at him.  "Is someone coming?"

He shrugged, not making any sort of effort to look at her.  "Well, the lights are on, so I think so."

Just as he spoke the lift ratcheted roughly before going down at a gradual pace.  Rose let out a sigh of relief and got up to her feet.  "What time is it?"

"I don't know."

The elevator doors opened to the lobby and Rose and John peeked around the corner to see that it was still dark out, the lobby empty.  John strode from the lift, making Rose follow in his wake.  She followed him as they tried to find Amy and Rory, not speaking a word to each other. 

"It's four am," he said when they found a clock.  "We should probably go back upstairs."

"We're taking the stairs."

"That'll... Rose, we're on the top floors."

"I don't care.  I'm not getting back in that stupid lift."

He set his jaw and stared at her.   "Fine."

"Well, I never said you had to come with me," she said, turning her nose up and walking away.

John stalked after her, his anger radiating off of him.  "So you just expect me to let you wander around a hotel all by yourself in the middle of the night?"

"So what if I do?" 

He caught up to her, being that his legs were longer than hers and all, and grabbed her by the crook of the elbow.  She gasped in surprise and smacked his arm.

"I think I've had quite enough of you hitting me," he said firmly, and that was enough to make her stop.  She let him take her to the stairwell, through the door to the bland walls and grey stairs. 

"I said I was sorry for hitting you," she replied, though it came out a lot angrier than she had intended. 

He released her arm and gestured for her to precede him up the stairs.  She 'hmphed' rather dramatically and started up the stairs without him.  He followed, his footsteps very heavy compared to hers.  

"I've really had enough of you," he confided.   "Jack thinks you're good looking, and I told him if he'd spoken to you, he wouldn't think that anymore."

When he heard how silent she'd gotten, he wished he hadn't said that.  Her shoulders seemed to sag a little bit, and he wondered how sensitive she was about her appearance.  Most women were, he chided himself.  

She didn't speak and he felt the need to say something, to apologize or like, kiss her or something.  He had a particularly vivid fantasy that just attacked him where he turned her around, shoved her up against the wall in between floors, and attack her mouth with his.  

Instead, though, he'd insulted her femininity, which was the worst thing that could possibly have happened considering recent developments in his mind about her.  He'd woken up _spooning_ her for God's sake, cuddling her on accident.  He was only lucky that he'd woken up before her.  

They climbed the rest of the stairs in silence, because he'd just been the biggest wanker possible to her.  He wanted to apologize, but that was... Well, was that even allowed?  Since she'd apologized and he hadn't really accepted it, why would she accept his.  

He hadn't intended to feel anything for her, but the more he actually spoke to her, the more he found himself wanting to get close to her in more ways than one.  And that was really quite unfair, since she hated him and would continue to hate him for the rest of his natural life just because he was a _wanker._

John made a point to follow her onto her floor.  She turned to him, shooting daggers at him with her eyes as she reached the door and realized that he was still behind her. 

"Alright, what do you want?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm making sure you get back safe," he replied.

"Well, you took me on a wild goose chase, and now I have to knock to wake up Martha and explain to her why I've been up all night."  Rose scowled at him.  "Because I didn't really have the foresight to bring my room key out in the hallway in the wee hours in the morning."

"Well, I'm _sorry!"_ He nearly shouted.  "I'm trying to be nice to you, Rose, but you're making it very difficult."

"Well, it's a good thing I'm impossible _and_ ugly, then, isn't it?" 

"Now hang on, I didn't say-"

"You did!" Tears sprang to her eyes.  She pointed back down the hallway.  "Go, get out of here."  She knocked on the door so he had no choice but to flee before Martha came out and asked what was going on.

"Rose?" Martha opened the door and rubbed her eyes. "What's going on?"

"Went down to look for Amy," Rose said, scratching her head.  "The lift got stuck.  Is she here?"

Martha turned over her shoulder.  "Yeah."

"Ah."

Martha smiled sympathetically at her friend.  "Good try."

"Thanks."

"Come in and go to bed.  We have a long day tomorrow."

"Don't I know it." She grinned at Martha and entered the room.

But she couldn't stop thinking about what John had said about her.


	6. Chapter 6

Rose studiously avoided John for a couple weeks of the tour.  No matter how much she disliked him, his words about her physical appearance had wounded her. He was good looking.  She could acknowledge that John Smith was a handsome man.  What she didn't want to hear was how an attractive man found her so revolting.  So she put on her new outfit the moment it came out finished, just wanting to feel beautiful again.

John, on the other hand, continued to watch the concert footage and drool over her, because blimey, she looked good.  She had been wearing better and better outfits as the tour wore on, as things got ruined by sweat and the elements, outdoor concerts being what they were.  

That night, it happened to be a brand new, royal blue leotard-bustle number, with black fishnets and blue stiletto boots (and that was not fair).  Rose powdered up her nose before going out.  She performed her first song of that night and waved at the crowd, beaming at them. 

"Hi, everyone!" She said, adjusting her head mic.  

The crowd screamed in reply, just happy to be addressed by her.  Rose laughed lightly and turned around to gesture to Amy and Martha. 

"These are my friends, Martha Jones and Amy Pond, if you'd welcome them for me please."

They did of course, and Martha even blushed a little at the recognition.   

"We've got two stops left on our tour," she said, "And I'm glad that you could be with us tonight.  I'm gonna be singing a song called Day and Night for you tonight," she shrugged a little, playfully throwing a shrug as she turned over her shoulder.  "Dunno if you know it."

The crowd erupted into applause and cheers, some shouting out their love for Rose as she began the song.

"All of the day, and all of the night-"

The song, and every song after that, wen toff without a hitch, and she exited the stage with a kiss blown to the crowd and a wink.  They screamed long after she, Amy, and Martha had left the stage.  

"We don't have a show tomorrow," Martha said breathlessly, "I say we all go out for a drink."

Rose nodded.  "I'm there," she said, then looked at Amy.  "I know you've been MIA, how about you, then?" She asked, cocking her eyebrow. 

Amy blushed and looked away.  "Yeah, I think I can go tomorrow," she said a little timidly.

"Not seeing Rory, then?" Martha asked casually, examining her nails.

Rose and Amy's gazes snapped right to Martha. "You _knew?"_ Amy demanded, and Rose found herself gaping. 

Martha looked at both of them like they were completely daft.  "Of course I knew.  I know Rose knew, because she kept sneaking out and I know she wasn't going around with John Smith.  And Rose, you told me that John 'lost' one of his band mates.  I put two and two together," she grinned at Rose, "But you did try really hard to be a good friend."

" _Both_ of you knew?" Amy shouted, her fire back in her eyes. 

Rose scratched the back of her neck.  "So, that was a great show, everyone," she said, walking back towards their dressing rooms. 

"Oh, no you don't!  You get back here!" Amy's long legs caught her up to Rose in record time and she grimaced as she was whirled around, the bustle on her outfit catching a crew member and making him look at them, a puzzled look on his face.

"The first night I went to look for you, John and I saw you," Rose admitted.  "And then one night you were both out really late and John knocked on the door and said he was worried because he hadn't seen either of you so we went on a bit of a hunt for you."  She tamped down what had happened on said hunt, not wanting to relive it in any way.  It had been stressful and painful the first time, she didn't really need it again.

Martha just laughed, while Amy blushed furiously and glared at her friends.  She crossed her arms.  "Oh, alright," she said, "Go ahead, pick on me all you want, but Rory and I..."

"You're falling for each other," Martha said softly.  "And I'm happy for you.  I am.  But let's do something with the three of us tomorrow.  You can't forget your girlfriends once you get a boyfriend."

Amy seemed to calm a bit at that and smiled at Martha and Rose, who looked at her earnestly.  "You're right," she admitted, dropping her arms.  "Okay, we'll go out tomorrow night."

Rose and Martha chatted excitedly at the news, dragging their friend back to the dressing rooms.  

"Well, you'd better explain how things are going, then, since everyone knows already anyway," Martha said once they'd set about starting to take their makeup off. 

To Rose's surprise, Amy blushed.  "It's been fun.  He's such a good guy, and I know we've got this rivalry, but he's... I dunno," she rolled her eyes, "He's like perfect, or something."

"Just because we've got a rivalry doesn't mean you can't be happy," Rose replied.  "Have you just been going out for drinks?"

"And late dinners," Amy said, gathering up her sweats and going to stand behind the changing screen.  Rose looked at herself in the mirror, tuning out Amy's words and tilting her head to look at her jawline or her nose.  She didn't think she was ugly.  Apparently John Smith thought she was, though.  And why, exactly, did that bother her so much?  She was fixating on it, she was completely aware, but she really couldn't stop.  She was so angry. 

She chewed her bottom lip and set about removing her heavy makeup.  It wouldn't do her any good to dwell on it. 

******

"You're watching those videos again?" Jack asked, taking his shoes off at the foot of his bed.  

John took out one of his earbuds and looked back at his friend.  "She was right.  I didn't give her music a shot before coming down on the whole rivalry thing."

To John's surprise, Jack's eyebrows rose.  "Oh my God.  You love her."

John scrunched up his nose.  "I do _not_ love her.  That would be ridiculous.  We fight and yell at each other every time we see each other.  There's no love there."

"You don't get on the internet much, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

Jack batted John's hands away from his computer and typed in a popular gossip website.  John began to whinge about it but Jack cut him a stern glare. 

"You should pay attention to what people are saying about you," Jack said, "I thought you knew.  They have all these pictures of you and Rose together when you were out Rory-hunting or something."

The pictures were from the most recent time John had seen Rose, when he'd led her back up to her room.  She looked like she was crying, on the verge of it, at least, her chin tilted up towards him in defiance.  

Oh.  His heart sank as he realized when that particular picture had been taken.  He'd insulted her, and she was trying not to look hurt.  John slammed his fist down on the desk.  "I didn't see anyone!  How could they have possibly known we were there?"

"They always know, don't be stupid," Jack chastised, scrolling down to the article.  "Read that."

"But this happened a couple weeks ago," John protested.

"Yes, and they just now published it a few days ago.  I thought you saw it."

"I didn't."

"Okay, then read it."

John sighed and stared at his computer.  "'Rose Tyler and John Smith epic break up'?  Really?" He turned back to his friend, but Jack wasn't backing down, so John continued reading, "'Both pop stars were found on a midnight wander again, but any spark that might've been between them was violently extinguished.  Tyler stormed away from Smith, resulting in what must be trouble in paradise.  Maybe the end of their tours will signify the ends of their relationship as well'.  But we're not dating!"

"Okay, well when you wander around with a pretty girl at all hours of the night, a time when both of you would have to _go_ on a date, it's to be expected that this is what people think," Jack said.  "Look, I am all for relationships.  All for them.   _All_ for them."

"The point?"

"Oh.  Yeah.  The point is that you did something to Rose, and whether you like it or not, I can tell you feel something for her.  So why does she look like that in this picture?"

John shifted uncomfortably.  "I accidentally insulted her.  I wanted to take it back, but we were just making each other so angry and it was like-"

"It was either yell at her or snog her?" 

"Uh.  Yeah, kind of.  How'd you know that?" 

Jack stared at his friend dubiously.  "You're acting like I've not been there.  Listen.  You need to chat her up before this tour is over, dude.  You're gonna lose her."

"Oh, my God, we're not even dating," John threw his hands up. 

"Yeah, like it matters," Jack replied, "You're infatuated, nearly head over heels, you just need that final push."

John blushed and started mumbling to himself, clicking out of the gossip rag tag on his computer.  "Am not."

"You like her, there's nothing wrong with that," Jack said softly, "In fact, maybe we'll do a joint tour with her if you're dating Rose and Rory is dating Amy."  He winked.  "One of us has to be left to pick up Martha."

"I think she has a boyfriend, Jack."

"And what's better than one boyfriend?  Two boyfriends."

The tension between them broken, John let out a bark of laughter and shook his head.  "I think I'm gonna get to bed.  Our day off should be relaxing, I don't want to spend it wishing I'd gone to bed earlier."

"Is Rory coming up?"

John opened his mouth to reply but even as he did so the door to their suite swung open and Rory came in before throwing himself onto his bed face first.  Jack and John exchanged a look before Jack closed and locked the door.

"What's up?" Jack asked casually.

Rory's response was muffled by the duvet. 

"Yeah, didn't hear that," John said, though not unkindly.  

Rory rolled over onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.  "Amy says she doesn't want to go out tomorrow because she hasn't spend any time with Rose and Martha, so they're all going out for drinks tomorrow."

"And that's cause for alarm?" Jack asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Yeah, because Martha and Rose _know_ we're a thing.  What if they try to split us up when they go out?"

"That's not going to happen," John said confidently.  "Have you even thought that maybe she just wants to hang out with them for a night?" 

"Besides, John is trying to pull Rose right now, and we can't do that if you're all mopey."

Rory sat up at that, any forlorn-ness forgotten. "What?  You are?"

John colored deeply. "No, I am not trying to _pull_ Rose."

"You are though," Jack said teasingly.

Rory grinned.  "You know, after all the tabloids said, I was starting to think you were dating under the radar, and just doing a very bad job of it."

John threw his hands up in disgust.  "Does everyone read the tabloids but me?"

"I'm afraid so, mate," Rory said sympathetically.  "You should start dipping into those more often."

John blew out a sigh.  "Alright, so what are we supposed to do on our night off?  If they're out, then Rory can't hang out with his little girlfriend, and so what's left?"

Jack looked at John.  "We coincidentally drop you off at the same bar as Rose Tyler."

"No, Jack."

"Yes! John, you are so repressed, and you sit here watching all her videos anyway, so you might as well just get out there!  She means something to you, and you mucked up, you insulted her, so you might as well go in and apologize."

Rory nodded. "I think that's a good idea," he offered.  "Then Jack and I can go to a different bar and I can be the designated driver."

Jack shot him a look.  "They invented taxis for a reason."

Both Rory and Jack turned their gazes on John expectantly, waiting for him to say something.  Finally, John rolled his eyes.  "Fine, okay. I'll do it."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I hope to do another chapter of To Remember before the next Au, but I already have it planned :)
> 
> Thanks for the love, as always, enjoy!

The next night, Rose found herself between her two friends at a bar, sunglasses still firmly on, though they'd foregone the hats.  That enough made them recognizable, but none of them really minded, if they were honest. Everyone who took pictures with them was likely too drunk to remember tomorrow, so the story wouldn't get sold.

And even if it did, what did it matter?  Their tour was almost over, after all.  They had no worries to speak of and were living rather carefree lives.

"So, are you and Rory going to keep seeing each other when we get back to London?" Martha asked the question that Rose had been thinking, turning to her friend.

Amy surprised both of them by blushing deeply. "We've discussed it, and we'd like to." She took a swig of her beer.  "I think he'll be good for me."

"If you think that, that's all that matters," Rose said kindly.  "Don't worry about anything, just enjoy the time you have."

Martha laughed and shoved Rose playfully.  "Says the girl who hasn't had a relationship in how long?"

Rose rolled her eyes and laughed, "Alright, you may be right, but that doesn't mean that's the point."

She knew she'd been happy before, but this made her _really_ happy, being with her friends.  It was almost enough to make her forget what John had said, because for some reason, she still found herself dwelling on it.

He made her burn with an anger she couldn't begin to understand.  She scratched the back of her head and sighed before taking another swig of her beer.  

"Oh, my God." Amy said, cutting off Rose's deep thoughts.  She loked up to where her friend was looking and saw John Smith entering the bar, aviators and beanie on, looking for someone with intent.

"Probably here to pick up his latest girlfriend," Rose said, rolling her eyes.

Martha narrowed her eyes and, quick as a whip, pulled her phone from her purse.  "Or he found us because we're on the home page of an internet browser because we're here."

"Oh, God," Amy groaned and took a long drag of her beer, making Martha and Rose giggle. 

Their laughter was cut off abruptly by John coming right up to them.  He smiled a little sheepishly.  "Uh, hello," he said, scratching the back of his neck.  "I wanted to talk to Rose for a few minutes, if that's okay."

"Why?" Rose snapped at him, and John winced. 

"I'd like to talk to you," he said, slowly, "Alone."

Martha and Amy stared on, eyes as wide as dinner plates.  Rose searched his face carefully (well, what she could see of it, anyway) and finally nodded.  She stood up and let him lead her from the bar and along the sidewalk of it.  She crossed her arms over her chest and slipped her sunglasses off, as it was too dark to see with them still on.  He followed her lead, tucking them into his jacket pocket. 

"For someone who wanted to talk, you're being awfully quiet," she quipped. 

"I don't know how to start," he said honestly.

"We're not even friends, John."

"Aren't we?"

She looked at him, a puzzled look on her face.  "I'm sorry, what's that supposed to mean?"

He sighed and turned towards her.  She slowed to a stop and turned to face him as well.  The heat in the air signaling rain blurred in their minds as they watched each other.  She raised her eyebrows, awaiting some sort of explanation. 

"I just... God, I had a speech on the way over here."

"I'm so confused."

"You hate me."

"And?"

His face fell.  "Oh."

She scrunched her brow at him.  "Wait, since when is that a problem, John?"

"Uh, it's been a problem for awhile now, actually."

"You're being very cryptic," she said, a little harsher than she intended.  She didn't know why she was being so cruel to him when he had been trying to be nice to her. She bit her lip and held herself back, letting him finish.

Thunder rumbled and the sky opened, but John didn't seem to notice.  He was watching her intently, his hands clenched at his sides.  "I'm sorry."

Rose raised her eyebrows.  "Oh, so that's what it is?  You can just waltz in to me _weeks_ after _insulting_ me and apologize again?  What makes you think that you can do that?"

John swallowed and stared at her.  She really was beautiful, even in the rain, maybe _especially_ in the rain.  "I just... I couldn't stop thinking about you, and about how we left things." he kicked the ground, scuffing his trainer. 

She was angry now, and she didn't know why she was angry. He really hadn't done anything, he was actually being rather kind, but she'd spent so much time guarding her heart that perhaps she had forgotten whet it was like to let go and let someone feel something for her.  

Instead of letting him talk, she ripped into him again.  "So you just thought about me all day and night, did you?

He averted his gaze from her and blushed, even under the cold of the rain.  "Uh... yes."

She laughed then, a cruel laugh.  "Oh, the almighty pop star, John Smith, brought to his knees by-"

She was yelling, and John most certainly panicked, because he lunged forward, cupping her cheeks, and kissed her.

The rain pounded on them, but mostly him, because she was nearer to the wall and smaller and he was desperate to be close to her, no matter what it took.  She froze and he pulled away, blushing furiously.

She grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him back down to her in response.  

He felt light blossom in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist as he had been craving to do since he'd properly looked her up.  She was beautiful, truly beautiful, and maybe that was because he saw how she behaved with others now, when there wasn't a stupid rivalry at stake. 

And it was a stupid rivalry, she told herself as his tongue found its way into her mouth.  He deepened the kiss but pulled back shortly thereafter, looking left and right before dragging her into the alley next to the bar. 

"I'm sorry," he said emphatically, "I'm really, properly sorry.  You're beautiful."

She watched him studiously, her eyes searching his.  "Forgiven," she said hoarsely, trying to pull him back to her. 

"Wait, uh, are you drunk?" He asked, his hands anchored to her hips and now unsure about her consent.

Rose shook her head.  "Not even a little bit.  Barely got a few sips of my beer before you busted in."

And that settled it, really, and they were kissing again, with more fervor than before, hands wandering and mouths questing.  He lifted her and pinned her against the wall as his mouth moved across her jaw and down her neck.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head back against the brick, allowing his affections to wash over her. 

"I was trying to figure out-" she paused to gasp as he did something particularly wicked with his tongue against her pulse point.  "-Why I cared so much, about what you said."

"I was stupid," he mumbled, voice muffled by her skin.  "I was just scared, I didn't' mean it."

"Yeah, well I didn't know that," she said, "I thought maybe you were trying to make sure you weren't giving me the wrong idea because you woke up spooning me."

He looked up, his face pale. "I thought you weren't awake," he said softly.

"I didn't want you to know that I was awake," she whispered back, barely audible over the pouring rain.  He looked so vulnerable, his hair flattened, hat slipped off somewhere along the way.  His eyes were wide and he glanced away from her for a moment before meeting her eyes and pushing her farther against the wall. 

"I was drawn to you," he said, making sure to keep eye contact as he spoke.  "I didn't want to be.  But you were right, and you were fiery, and I kept watching your videos online and your outfits are _unfair_ because you're gorgeous and-"

She leaned forward and kissed him, cutting him off.  It was a gentler kiss, her hands shifting to move into his hair, fingers curling into the strands.  He sighed into her mouth and responded eagerly, as if she was the only thing that mattered at that moment.  She didn't think a man had ever made her feel so cherished before, and it was a man she thought she'd hated just moments before.  

Maybe the heat she felt when she thought about him hadn't been anger at all, she mused.  They kissed leisurely, as though they had all the time in the world, the rain falling around them and his mouth taking hers gently over and over.  

Finally, she pulled back, breathing heavily for air.  She brushed her thumbs over his cheeks.  "It's raining," she whispered. 

He smiled at her, and she could nearly feel the affection that was being projected onto her.  "So it is."

"Maybe we should go inside."

"You make it very hard to be a gentleman."

"You are holding me against a wall."

"Good point." He chuckled, dropping her back to her feet.  "I... I'm afraid that I may be falling in love with you.  It's just a fear mind, but it's not really a fear that I'm... Scared of."

He seemed confused by his own rambling and she laughed, blushing a little at his confession.  "Okay, then we're on the same path then."

His answering smile could've lit planets across the galaxy right before he kissed her again and again and again.

When she didn't return to the bar, Martha and Amy figured out exactly what had happened and saluted each other with their drinks.

*****

This time, when he woke up spooning her, he didn't have to scoot away and run to the opposite end of a stopped elevator.  He kissed her shoulder and across there to her neck, waking her up slowly. 

She peered up at him and traced her knuckles along his cheek.  He beamed down at her. "You know, I had a feeling that you were just romantically repressed."

"Why's that, then?" she asked, sounding only about half interested.  He leaned over her to look at her in the face. 

"Pretty girl like you, not dating?  That was no fault of your own."

He sounded so honest, like he meant every kind word he spoke about her, and it made her adopt a sort of watery smiled onto her face.  She rolled over and hugged him tightly.  "It's been a long time," she explained, "I think I was just scared of you," he squeezed her tighter at her words.

"If it helps," he whispered into her hair, "I'm still absolutely terrified of you."

She propped herself on her elbows on his chest and peered down at him.  "Good, I wouldn't have it any other way."

He laughed and stroked a hand up her back.  "We should go, everyone will worry about us.'

She sighed and sat up, looking down at him. "You're right, I guess.  We both have shows tonight."

"What time is it now?"

"Nine O' clock."

"Ahh, we have plenty of time," he said, "I thought it was three or four, I feel like I slept forever."

"Well, let's go then."

"Can I drop you off at your room, just to make sure you get there safe?" He asked, gazing up at her hopefully. 

She leaned over and kissed him gently.  "Yes."

***

Needless to say, the rivalry ended shortly thereafter. As promised, Jack did try to pull Martha, but her boyfriend, Mickey, was not too keen on the whole subject, and luckily, Martha wasn't either.  

But now that they were off their tours, John was able to spend more time with Rose and Rory with Amy.  Rose was still guarded, but she tried to open herself up to John, _for_ John, because he was so good to her in every way that a man could be good to a woman.  

The tabloids knew (but of course, they were never going to keep that a secret, were they?) and although sometimes there were fake scandals and cheating rumors, they held tight to each other, because if they couldn't face the world together... How would they?

Luckily, three years later and with an elevator rigged to stop, John ensured on bended knee that they would never have to be apart again.


End file.
